A blog from a woman on a journey of discovery.

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Monday, 14 February 2011

Exposed and learning to accept what I am given

He took the new rope from my hands, and tied a noose at one end.

I watched him, this was the noose knot he once gave me a remote lesson on how to tie by typing instructions only to have me falling about laughing at my inability to do it, but this time I was not laughing. I was mesmerised by his fingers tying the knot, turning the new rope over in his hands, and fell very still.
He stood and walked behind me, placed the rope over my wrists and pulled it tight, , wrapping the rope between my hands, checking how tight it was.

He led me to the bed and laid me face down, pulled the rope up my back, wrapped it once round my neck, tied my feet behind me and then once more round my neck.

He returned to the chair and sat there, not moving, not speaking, just sitting and looking, watching me studying me. My face was turned towards him and I could no longer look directly at him.

I was helpless, completely at his mercy, unable to move.

He stood, walked towards the bed, never taking his eyes off my face, I sensed this rather than saw it. He rolled me over so I was on my back and now I was completely vulnerable, completely exposed.

He reached into his bag and took from it his favourite crop, the one we had bought together one sunny day last year, one he had made me carry through the shopping mall, in my hand, my face red with shame.

He laid the crop on the bed beside me.
He took the hood from the bag and laid it next to my head.
I closed my eyes and I heard the sound of him undoing his belt.
My eyes shot open.
He laid the belt across my stomach.

His hand reached towards my breasts, and he slapped them, hard, he pinched he pulled, he twisted, he flicked, he pulled some more.

He lent down and I felt his hot breath on them, his lips closing over my nipples, his tongue licking, sucking, while his hand squeezed and pinched and twisted the other one. he swapped between the two.

The pleasure of his tongue, his kisses followed by the pain and torment of his fingers.

He picked up the belt and moved it.

He picked up the crop.

He began tracing the end of the crop over my nipples; teasing them, tapping gently, down my thighs , up the inside of each leg till I almost longer to feel it on my wet and now desperate cunt.

I closed my eyes and let the feelings of vulnerability of openness flood over me, fill me with happiness.


He brought the crop down over one tit.
and again over the other.
I struggled, the rope tightening round my neck, realizing that his hand held the other end, I knew that he could feel exactly how tight it was, he was watching , looking and checking.

Again and again I watched him raise the crop, again and again I felt it crash into me; biting pain, hot searing pain, head filling, crying sobbing pain.
The rope around my neck felt tight, I began to panic I bit, i tried to tell him it was too tight, he looked and shook his head. I had to focus on being calm, not fighting,...on accepting what he was giving me, accepting the pain from him, accepting ...........

I remember him putting the crop between my teeth as he picked up his belt. I watched him hold the buckle and wrap it round his hand
 I remember the noise, the crack it made as he pulled it.......... and I remember the first time it hit me...................and I remember watching his arm, not the belt, just his arm.......................

His hands gently lifted my head and unwound the rope from my neck, I felt his hands on mine as he untied the knots, his arms as he carefully moved my arms to my sides and as he lifted me from the bed, and wrapped my favourite blanket from home around me. He wiped the tears from my eyes, kissed them away, he told me he loved me, he told me I was a good girl, that he was proud of me.

He held me close, talking about what he had done to me: about the rope, how he had tied it, how it looked behind my back.  He described how the crop had marked me across my stomach, my tits, how my thighs were marked by the crop and the belt,  he talked to me about how my cunt had dripped after he had used the crop on it and the belt. He talked about how I had cried out, moaned and whimpered, how he had watched me struggle and how I had fallen silent, by body open to him, my cunt exposed, my nipples hard and erect, and how I had become still............... and how I had accepted what he had given me.

He touched me so gentley where he had hurt me, kissing each welt, slowly undoing the blanket, laying me out once more on the bed.

His fingers tracing along the marks he had made, his fingers exploring my cunt , probing, thrusting, opening, and this time allowing me to feel pleasure, holding me on the edge of orgasm, and once more he wrapped me in his arms, and held me tight as he made me cum......a deep, all encompassing, all over body and mind , flashing lights, music in the ears orgasm.

I had a complete overwhelming submissive feeling come over me and begged to be allowed to be at his feet once more, so smiling me released me from his arms and more or less poured me onto the floor, he covered me with my blanket and there I drifted off to sleep, wrapped around his feet, holding onto his leg, my hand inside his jeans touching him, while he finished some work.

When I woke a few hours later, he once more put my rope on, took the other end in his hand, and pulled me into bed, and there we fell asleep...................... together .........me on the end of his rope .......... where I belong...


  1. I second the WOW! Sounds like an amazing time was had by all. Happy Valentines Day!

  2. a very hot post, a lucky girl

    blossom x